


I'll let you

by Ferairia123



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BBC Sherlock Sheet Scene, Boring Case, Gen, Greg Lestrade is a Good Friend, Happens before S02E03, Humor, John Watson in Pajamas, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, No sheets on Sherlock, Palace official, Public Nudity, Sherlock Wearing A Sheet, Sherlock deducing, Streaking in Buckingham Palace, Vague public nudity, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 23:45:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17776493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ferairia123/pseuds/Ferairia123
Summary: Sherlock was once again summoned to 'serve' the royal family. This time, John was caught with him, too. Despite all the pomp and circumstance, it wasn't much of a case but the client insists.Now, the sheets fall.





	I'll let you

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to @Chriss_Daryl on Twitter.
> 
> I hope this isn't too disappointing since it's a bit...tame. But the mental image of a streaking Sherlock was too much fun to be left untouched.
> 
> Happy Reading!

It wasn't the first time that Sherlock had to 'serve'  the royal family. Certainly, won't be the last either.

The men in suits came barging in again and Mrs. Hudson was thankfully away. The lady has enough excitement in her life to begin with.

This time, however, John was lumped with him. 

Both of them were in their morning things...Which meant Sherlock was in a sheet...again. Why must is always be mornings anyway. They could have at least waited until tea.

Escorted by the men in suits, the two men were all but under dressed. John didn't have time to change out of his pajamas and dressing gown. He had, Sherlock noticed,  his 'date' shoes on. Obviously, an attempt at decency.

Once seated, one of the men declared he was going to get their client as the rest disappeared. No doubt being stationed like last time.

John was a bit more fidget-y than last time. It was somewhat annoying.

"Calm down, John." Sherlock offered, nonplussed about the whole thing.

"We're in Buckingham Palace." He pointed out nervously. "I'm less dressed than last time." He said in a low voice. "God forbid I end up like you." Sherlock rolled his eyes at that. "No matter how well dressed you try, nothing you own would fit the dress code here." He explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

John whipped at Sherlock indignantly and tried to make a comeback, only managing to splutter before he huffed and returned his original posture, if not more deflated. 

A moment passed without distractions as Sherlock came up with at least 8 scenarios for the current problem, out of which he would only indulge 2 of them. One, is the fake diadem that one of the Count had placed so that he can pawn off the real one for money. Two, the mystery surrounding the missing facility management tender documents. Neither of them got wind other than some tabloids and whispers among those affected. 

"I do have something for Palace." John said rather lowly. Sherlock got dragged out of his contemplation as he said that. John regarded him rather competitively, as if daring him to guess, to deduce.

Sherlock did a double take at that before a look of realization crossed his face. He had focused on his wardrobe but not his storage boxes. He was bound to have a full set of ceremonial uniform. "Your ceremonial uniform." He said to himself rather than John. Thoroughly disappointed in himself.

"Hah!" John said triumphantly with a large grin only for their client to walk in then. John immediately composed himself at that. "Gentlemen." The client regarded politely. "A pleasure to meet you again, despite the circumstances." "This better be good." Sherlock demanded, noticing that Mycroft isn't around. This might just be very bad. Tasteless. A 3 point at most.

John recovered with an acknowledging nod, still very much bewildered.

"Of course." The client said as he seated himself. "You must understand that the previous discretion should be applied for this case, as well." He said as he opened his briefcase to take out a folder. 

Sherlock a look at that and frowned. "A missing agent?" He said with disgust.John rose one of his eyebrows in interest.

"Yes. A missing agent harbouring rather distressing secret that is preferably not aired." He said in a tone that indicated that the matter should not be spoken out loud. Sherlock looked at him and then back at the folder. A clean plastic folder with an opaque grey cover with a stack of documents, some of them already yellowing.

He scoffed. "If he's smart, he won't give out so called 'truth' anyway." He said he imperiously got to his feet. John automatically standing up. "Honestly, this is barely a 2 and I won't do it." He muttered in his rapid fire way, fueled by irritation as he turn to leave. "Lazy idiots."

"Now, Mr. Holmes. Your brother would be less than thrilled if you do not assist us." The man surreptitiously threatened him, slowly catching up to him. Sherlock rolled his eyes again, stopping in his tracks, almost colliding with a scrambling John. "Mycroft's pet aren't petty and he himself won't 'disclose' whatever it is unless it hurts the country." He assured him as he started to move again. "Even if Mycroft uses it, you'll live."

The client immediately stepped on his sheet the same way Mycroft did. John wasn't sure that was a good idea and was torn between tackling Sherlock or the client. "I'm sure leaving here without any 'dignity' might reflect the sentiment of the matter." The client went on again.

John gave a surprised look while Sherlock gave him a look of utter disgust, the former in genuine surprise the sheet managed to stay on, the latter from the client's sheer audacity. The client had a smirk on his face as if he just won. He had misinterpreted the situation. With an indignant huff, he lets the sheets fall and strode off. Naked. Both John and the client gaped at him.

John looked at the client and back to the fast retreating back of the world's only consulting detective. A very naked back, complete with rippling toned thigh muscles and the tensing and relaxing of the gluteus maximus as he strode on.

Snapping out of the shock, he went after the man. "Sherlock, where are you going?!" He called after the man, quickly taking off his dressing gown.

"Out!" He said irritably.

"Put this on!" John said as he chased him with the dressing gown bunched in one hand. He only had his pajamas on and felt bared despite the fact he's chasing after a more naked man.

Sherlock looked back at him, questionably. "Why?" He barely slowed his stride.

"So no one else sees all your bits!" John said as they rounded a corner.

He scoffed again. "Don't be such a prude, John." He admonished. "You're a doctor."

They heard squeals and fallen stuff as they passed. The maids were either still in shock or scrambling away from sight as they passed. 

"Sorry!" John apologized, face flushing as he did, passing them. "They aren't!" He argued, trying to maintain his distance.

"Sherlock, please!" John begged. 

Just then they heard a lot of hurried steps going towards them.

"John, run." He said off-handedly before sprinting off.

His instincts, born of the battlefield and his recent excursions with Sherlock, told him they were in danger and ran he did. 

Together, they ran (literally streaking for Sherlock) until the people in suits, this time armed, cornered them.

Arrested, they were sent to the metropolitan police station to be detained until further notice.

"What do you mean 'further notice'?" Sherlock asked in despair.

"Until further notice." The oldest of the bunch answered before closing the cell's door.

Afterwards, the two shared dismissive looks on the situation with each other.

"How long are we going to be here?" John asked him as Sherlock sighed and wrapped the dressing gown around him more tightly. Once they were cornered, Sherlock had the decency to cover up.

"At worst, overnight." Sherlock said confidently as he settled into one of the bunks. "Earlier if Mycroft thinks we can expedite whatever quarrel Sir Attaway got into."

In all honesty, John had resigned to his fate once he got caught by the Service. He was just glad that they never got to the public viewing side of the palace. That would have been catastrophic.

However, John was really curious how he knew what he knew. Quietly, he settled on his bunk. "So..." He began. "Mycroft's agents?"

"Of course." Sherlock began with an exasperated huff. "The folder was new but the contents, weren't. That suggests either smuggling, transfer or theft. If it were any normal document, the folder would have aged with the content unless they've recently made a habit of changing folders every month." He explained. 

"Now, Mycroft wasn't there. This could be a coincidence but Mycroft wouldn't let us near his associates unless the said associates sought us out. But this is Buckingham Palace. Mycroft would certainly be there. So this indicates official but something to hide from Mycroft. When Mycroft is in the subject, it's always his pets." He resumed, a grimace on his face. "Dull." He spat vehemently.

"Now, this was pure conjecture but his reaction gave him away." He continued after a beat. "He gave a speech on 'dignity' when he was pulling on my sheet. Thus, putting it all together, something scandalous happened and the source disappeared. The said source is affiliated with Mycroft and needed another Holmes to find him." He concluded. "Finding him is as easy as asking Mycroft where he went." He snorted in disgust. "This case must have been in the negatives."

John took a moment to process. "Wait, how did you know it was a 'he'?" He asked.

"Full name was on the side leaf." He told him off-handedly with a dismissive wave. "Angus Mcgriff."

John gave an impressed hum at that. "A bit disappointing." He commented once the simplicity of the matter was brought out. 

"Couldn't agree more." Sherlock grunted irritably with his eyes closed. "Lazy idiots."

To pass the time, they ended up deducing what the people who came through were in for until the door opened.

Lestrade, who looked equal part bemused and exasperated, appeared.

"So, here we have a streaker and the trespasser." He said bemusedly.

Sherlock sniffed delicately while John groaned.

"Please tell me that's not going into my records." John whined as he got to his feet.

"Well, it's not but..." Lestrade trailed of awkwardly. "Uh, you two need to spend the night here." He finished, flinching as he expected a full rebellious outburst.

Disappointed, John went to sit back down.

"Tedious." Sherlock spat barely moving from where he was.

"Hey, now. You went streaking in the Palace of all places. I bet there's more than one person there wants to report you other than that posh bloke." Lestrade tried to placate them. "And your brother wanted to me to relay a message." He said with an all-suffering sigh.

John waited for him to start but Lestrade was waiting a response from Sherlock.

Exasperated, he waved for Lestrade to continue.

Relieved, he did. "There won't be anymore cases from this client but he has one for you. You're also banned from the Palace."

John jumped at that. "Wait, how 'bout me?" He asked in worry.

"Gettin' to that." Lestrade gave him an acknowledging nod. "He also said you will get unwanted visits if you refuse." He said clearly, expecting an answer from him.

"Typical." Sherlock tersely replied.

"Ok, now John." He turned to John. "Don't worry about the official records. He made sure that nothing escapes and is happy you didn't get anyone into a brawl." He told him with a small relieved smile. 

It was better than what John had in mind. "Suppose I could live with that." He said with a shrug.

"Well, this is no 5 star hotel but I'll buy you a pint tomorrow." Lestrade tried to placate.

"Cheers!" John said happily.

"So, see ya tomorrow, you two." Lestrade bade them goodbye with a giggle.

Once the door closed and his footstep have all but faded among the din of fellow holding cell occupants, Sherlock sat up, narrowing his eyes on him.

John stared at him back. "What?"

"For the record, I did it because this was a waste of my time and I decided parading in nothing was the best form of revenge." He told him, there was a suspicious lilt in his eyes as he said it.

"Uh...right." John said with a nod. He already had an idea as to why the fiasco started but why did he find that he needed to explain himself? On second thought, better not dwell on it. "Ok. Valid reason." He answered as Sherlock returned to his bunk. "By the way, you can keep the gown." He added, the sight of the gown reminding him of it.

Sherlock let's out a huff of a laugh but responded with nothing else.

They were released the next day. While having a pint with Lestrade, he found out the reason why.

"So, it wasn't because he was high or on a bet or some sort of dodgy client request?" Lestrade quizzed him. Each of the question were getting more ridiculous.

"Nope." John answered him, he was giggling the whole way. It might have been the drink but imagining Sherlock doing any of that is either too funny to consider or too much trouble to do so. "Dodgy client-to-be but nothing else."

"Blimey, just when you thought he couldn't raise the bar." Lestrade said as he took another draw from his beer. "When Mycroft called, I thought you guys murdered someone again."

John laughed mid sip and choked on his beer. 

"Oh god. Sorry, John." Lestrade said apologetically as he grabbed a few napkins for him.

"He would, though." John added thoughfully as he dabbed his chin. "Now, enough with the interrogation." He joked mildly. "Let's get a better seat for the match." He said as he pointed out that there was a couple leaving. Their spots were closer to the TV. "Oh, good eye there, John." Lestrade said as they both hurried to the seats.

**Author's Note:**

> I better get back to the other one now XD
> 
> Hoped everyone had a good read!


End file.
